


the early cat catches the shopkeeper

by hariboo



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/pseuds/hariboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the morning, she wakes up first, rare for her, especially after a night out but she recovers her energies so much faster in feline form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the early cat catches the shopkeeper

**Author's Note:**

> pre-the Winter War, during all the training is when I imagined the time line, but really it could be whenever.

She's too exhausted to turn back once she reaches the shop and contents herself to sneak to his room to curl up on his chest. It's not uncommon for her to do so as Kistuke's arm shifts she purrs when his hand combs through her fur sleepily. His short neat nails linger by her ear. She rubs her whiskers against his skin. He's always been a deep sleeper, except when he can't be and when it comes to her. The covert operations agent would be insulted about that, the covert operations agent in her _should_ be insulted about that, but secretly likes it. Only because it's Kisuke, of course. Doesn't hurt that Kisuke has good hands, warm enough hands unless he's been in the lab for too long, with short nails that scratch and drag through her fur pleasantly. If there has to be one person she rarely catches by surprise there are much worse choices that Kisuke.

"Welcome back, Yoruichi," he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep he then succumbs to.

Yoruichi purrs; hey, she's cat right now, it's allowed. Her nose drags along his sternum and soon she's asleep. 

In the morning, she wakes up first, rare for her, especially after a night out but she recovers her energies so much faster in feline form. The change doesn't take long after that. The cool morning air raises goosebumps along her skin and she squints at the clock. The shop won't open for another hour and while the lure of fresh milk and breakfast call out to her, she lays back down pulling at the sheet to slip under it. 

Kistuke wakes up not even seconds later and is greeted with a sharp grin, her thighs pressing tightly against his own. 

"Ohayou."

"Morning," her teeth flash and she nips at his jaw. "Miss me?"

Kitsuke pulls her closer, a sleepy smile with a hint of mischief at the corner on his lips. When he kisses her nose, she rolls her eyes. 

"Stupid question," he says.

But, he is right. It is.

"You're up early," he reaches up to push back the thick curtain of her hair that falls around them and Yoruichi shrugs. Like he's one to talk.

"You left your window open," she says, eyes flitting up to said window. "It's nearing winter, you know."

His fingers wind around her hair lazily. He still looks half asleep, soft and unthreatening, but Yoruichi knows better. They're both quick to wake. "All the other windows are closed because Ururu gets cold at night."

"Except yours."

"Except mine."

He grins. She grins back. There used to be days, long ago, when she would think it was unfair how easy it was between them -- not that it has always been easy or that it will always be easy, but they worry about those moments when they come -- and how unfair it had to be for others who always felt one step behind around them. She's grown out of that. Maybe it is unfair, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She likes having secrets and knowing Kisuke, understanding him, some would consider the biggest one she keeps.

"Thanks," still grinning, she leans on her forearms, bracketing his face, and sighs -- not purrs, his ego doesn't need that much help -- as one hand slips from her hair and slides down her back. His thumb traces the curve of her breast. Her eyes flutter shut. Already she knows where this is going. She's known since she woke up. He's known since his eyes opened and she smiled.

Kisuke arches up into her, lips skimming her jaw, teeth tugging at her earlobe and his hand moves down her body. Fingers tickle the soft skin at her thighs before they stroke over her curls. She flinches, tenses, and feels her stomach clench in the span of three-seconds.

"You're welcome," he says in that same instance, fingers teasing her folds.

She hisses and opens one eye, glaring at him, "Bastard." Her neck feels hot and that feeling flows down her back like molten lava.

The smile is unrepentant. He knows she's ticklish and worst of all he knows exactly where her weak spots are. 

"I'm sorry, Yoruichi, my fingers slipped," the bastard teases her just as his fingers move inside her at the word _slipped_. 

The laugh that escapes her is purely accidentally and it's more of a moan by the end. She leans back, hands curving over at his sides, as his other hand pulls free from her hair and he presses his palm to her breast. His eyes are dark. His thumb circles her clit. Yoruichi's breath comes in a little harder. Her thighs clench. 

Yoruichi's teeth sink into her lip. 

Kisuke's eyes narrow on them, his eyes flick down to where his fingers are, and then licks his own. 

It hits her like punch in the gut, even as she thinks about later (and her legs on his shoulder, his breath on her thighs), that he hasn't kissed him yet. Not really, not in weeks and then it's a mad scramble of her hands as she pulls him to her. He follows easily, smart man, and meets her in a fierce kiss. Her tongue pushes past his teeth as her fingers twist in his hair. Kisuke's sucks at her tongue. One arm holds her steady above him, they shift her on his lap, his free hand (and her toes) push down his sleep pants--thank god for her core strength, and she can feel the press of his dick against her ass. Hi--his other hand oh! Oh. Oh! Too fast, she thinks blindly, the thought cut off as he pushes another finger inside her and a short nail presses against her clit. 

Her teeth bite down a little too hard on his lips. He hisses. Bastard, serves him right., she thinks vengefully, affectionally, even as her twitch around his hips and she feels herself fall over the edge.

Every muscle in her body feels unbearably tight for a wonderful burning minute and then they slowly relax as if she's sliding into a hot spring and it leaves her drifting. She can feel the rush of wetness between her thighs, Kisuke's fingers as they rub and pull _more_ out of her as they slowly leave her, trailing the inside of her thighs. His mouth leaves hers and trails wetly down her chin. A grin stretches across her mouth. Can feel his against her breasts. 

"Hmmm," Yoruichi opens her eyes, leaning her body back as her sense return, too far back, but she knows she won't fall. Kisuke's hands are holding her. He never lets her fall. His mouth is at her collarbone, at the top of her breast, at the dip of her cleavage, nipping and sucking lightly.

"You did miss me," she grins down at him as he looks up at her, his eyes say something along the lines of _well, of course_. 

Flattening her hands she pushes him back on the futon. His palms slide against her ribs, then to her hips.

"Yoruichi."

She lifts her body and reaches between them. His eyes never leave hers. There's a burst of warmth on her chest that has almost nothing to do what they're doing (though, some; it has been weeks and there's a part of her that never not misses him when she's gone long) and everything to do with centuries of knowing every secret in his eyes and every line on his face. One hand traces his face; her index finger follows the line of his nose down to his lips. He bites at the pad of the finger, lifts his hips just an inch, telling her he's ready. 

She grips him and lowers herself slowly, then leans over him again. She knows every line on his face, she thinks as he fills her. Every line in face and body.

"I missed you too," she says against his mouth just as she begins moving. His fingers move from her hips and dig into her ass. He meets her every thrust. She breathes against his lips, and it's almost as if they're sharing air. (There's a memory there: them and deep water. She wonders if he's remembering it too.) Her hair has once more fallen around them, shielding their faces from the world. 

His smile is surprisingly gentle, considering.

Her, she supposes, is too. 

She means it to be slow and soft -- lazy early morning sex -- but she's been gone for almost three weeks and every day winter inches closer. Yoruichi grinds down harder and faster. She pants against his mouth, "Kisuke," fingers pulling a little too roughly at sand coloured hair. The bite of his nails against her skin makes her inhale sharply and they both know the moment it changed from soft and slow. The snap of their hips grows sharper; she can hear her skin meeting his.

Her hands reach, drag down his back, and pull at him. His hands raise to twist in her hair and curl at her waist. The shift of their bodies speeds up and becomes rougher, almost rhythmless, and they roll on the futon. He slips out of her -- they both curse, panting -- and then there they are reaching for each other again. Her back pressed against half against the futon and the floor. One of her legs goes over his crook of his elbow when they reposition and he other hooks around his waist. Kisuke grunts as her thigh muscles tighten around his waist and she holds him close--closer. Her teeth flash as she pushes her hair out of her face before reaching for him.

Yoruichi pulls his face down to her and their lips touch just as he sinks back into her. 

It's almost over too quickly then. Kisuke's thrusts are fast but deep, she angles her hips so he's hitting just where she wants him. Their hands clutch at each other. 

She feels when Kisuke's body tenses, when his fingers curl a little too harshly on her back and waist, how his breath shutters out against her chin, his nose against her cheek. Already sensitive, she comes again easily and a little to her surprise when he sneaks his fingers back to her clit and does something clever and quick.

"Oh, Kisu--!" Her eyes squeeze shut, her muscles clenching around him. 

He groans out her name, and other words she doesn't pay attention to. They don't really matter she know the meaning behind everything he says.

Turning her head, Yoruichi nudges him enough to nibble at his top lip, feeling him let go soft inside her. The tension in their bodies eases away. They shift to their sides, breathing heavily. He pulls out of her, making her sigh a little, they're legs still tangled as they each prop themselves up on an elbow, facing each other. His face his flushed, pink blooming at his cheeks and chin, making her smile. She likes his face flushed. 

"I think I like it when you wake up early," he smiles at her, the smile still soft and surprisingly sleeply, and reaches up to trace her lips with his fingers. 

They're warmer than they are normally, but still cool. She bites at them, nips really. 

He laughs, warm and low, pulling her closer, "Bad kitty." Fingers walk down the line of her thigh, tracing over her tattoo. He tickles her.

Swinging the same thigh over his hip, she rolls her eyes, and makes sure her heel connects sharply to the back of his knee. Kisuke fingers stay where they are but he winces, still with that ridiculous curl of his lips.

"Bastard." Her leg settles on his hip, the jut of the bone familiar against her muscles, like a second home. He pushes her hair over her shoulder and then lowers his mouth to the spot. Yoruichi laughs when he laps at her skin, obnoxiously, like a cat. Pride calls for her to shove at his face, even if it is half heartedly. 

"Do I need to leave the window open tonight?" he asks, propping himself back up on one elbow. He looks at her, his eyes shaded by his hair. To others this would be unfair. They would look at his carefully shaded eyes and gently curling lips and see the mask. See the questions, the secrets. It is unfair, _for others_.

To her the eyes aren't shaded, the curl of his lips isn't hiding anything. For Yoruichi, everything is all too clear.

She doesn't bother with pushing his hair out of his eyes to see him better, instead she drags a finger down his nose and snorts inelegantly when he closes his teeth over said finger. 

"Nope, not tonight," she shakes her head. Shifting, she drops back to the futon, which they were only half on, and pulls his pillow under her head. "So, anything new to fill me in on?"

His fingers keep tracing her tattoo as he starts talking, filling her in on the plans he's come up with. She's thinking about convincing to have breakfast in bed.


End file.
